


Love, Tarts, and a Little Grace

by YukiRiikus_Reading_Room



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabble Collection, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Grief/Mourning, Loss, Love, Male-Female Friendship, Time Skips, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-27
Updated: 2013-08-27
Packaged: 2017-12-24 19:36:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/943854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YukiRiikus_Reading_Room/pseuds/YukiRiikus_Reading_Room
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>George always knew it was useless - Hermione would end up with Ron no matter what he did, everyone in the family knew it - but that couldn't stop the longing for the girl who'd become so important in his life to become THE most important.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love, Tarts, and a Little Grace

It was an accident, really.

 

Fred swore he hadn’t meant to spill it over her tea, but even an accident didn’t account for the fact that one minute he was heading in from the back garden where he’d been flying his broom and the next Hermione was striding towards him with fierce intent in her eyes, a wicked grin on her face as she threw her arms around his neck and planned her lips firmly over his. 

 

And really, was it George’s fault that she came flying at him in his own back yard?  And, if she kissed him first, could he really be blamed?  Did it really matter all the much in the long run that he kissed back?

 

Did he even care all that much, honestly?  He was getting exactly what he’d always wanted.  Somehow, even when all she did was scold him for disrupting the quiet of the common room during the school year, he'd found himself so drawn to her that Fred couldn't stop himself from stepping in to do what he knew his twin wouldn't.

 

But, as she pulled back, her breath warm and steady on his cheek on his chest he knew this couldn’t last.  There was nothing he could do to be able to keep her.  Hermione and Ron had been giving each other looks for ages, and everyone assumed (especially his Mum) that they would eventually get together.  But did that mean George couldn’t even try to be happy with her?  What about his happiness?

 

But could he live with knowing it was a love potion that brought them together?

 

“What’s wrong?”  Hermione asked, George trying his best to ignore the flurry of fast kisses she pressed to his collar bone.  He could see Fred grinning from the kitchen window giving him the thumbs up.

 

“This isn’t you, ‘Mione.”  George said softly, swallowing around the lump in his throat as he kissed her forehead pulling himself out of her arms.  She stood awkwardly before him, eyes bright and wide as she looked up at him in confusion.   Everything in her face screamed for him to pull her back to him, to capture her lips in a kiss so searing they’d both be burned to the soul, but he couldn’t.  He couldn’t do that to Ron. 

 

He couldn’t do that to her. 

 

 

*                         *                         *

 

 

He really hated tarts. More than anything in the world, in fact.

But, when she offered him one on a crisp Sunday morning, sleep still lingering in her eyes and hair a tangled nest of a bun, he took one without hesitation.  It was unusually bright, so bright the candles were still unlit in the kitchen, but he could see her clear as day as the early white light began to filter through the windows.

George loved the curve of her cheekbone more than anything, so high and proud, so often hidden by her hair or dwarfed by the distracting movements her lips or eyes made as she talked.

But this was his brother’s wife, so all his thoughts stayed locked inside his head where they belonged, and he took another tart briefly touching her fingers as his only way of telling Hermione he loved her.

He knew he could never have her.

It wasn’t just that George thought she deserved so much better than he could give, so much better than him, but also just the practicality of it.  After all, she’d married his little brother not even a year ago.  His family would never forgive him if he in any way had even a small part in ruining Ron’s happiness, even if it meant securing his own.  He knew he was charming, or could be when he needed to, but when it really came down to it, it didn’t matter.

He was pretty sure Hermione had only ever looked at him as a friend, and before that, just an annoyance that interrupted her studying.

Over the years, she’d warmed up to him, but they hadn’t really quite reached friends until after the Battle of Hogwarts.  During his grieving process, she’d been an absolute godsend.  That, he was sure, was when and why he’d fallen for her.  Sure, his family had been there for him, but they’d all been grieving the loss of a son or brother too.  George hadn’t even known where to begin grieving the loss of his twin.  Even now after so much time had passed, he still had moments when he woke, expecting to roll over and see Fred in the bed next to him only to be disappointed.  Those were the days he refused to get out of bed no matter what his family said or did to try and make him feel better.

Those were the days he sent an owl to Hermione, who usually showed up via floo network within the hour. 

He wasn’t sure what had compelled him to contact her of all people, but somehow, she’d been the only person in his life he felt he had left to talk to.  He’d needed some unnamable thing his family couldn’t give him, he felt a strange disconnect from his old friends at Hogwarts after the time away spent in hiding, and he didn’t want to contact Harry when he’d seen so much more loss than he had.  The first time she’d walked into his bedroom, he’d been sure he was seeing things.  Before he could even say anything, there she was, stretching out along the length of his bed beside him to pull him against her.  He hadn’t meant to start crying, but when he did Hermione just held him tighter, stroking his hair and saying nothing until his tears were spent and he felt like he could breathe again.

Now, whenever he couldn’t deal with everyone else’s reaction to his black days, to the days where he couldn’t force himself to function without Fred there to be his safety net and best friend, he immediately called for Hermione. 

When she came to see him, she didn’t pity or coddle him, or worse, give him that look that he’d gotten from everyone else that clearly said they were lost as to how to help him or begin to understand his grief.  But somehow, even without understanding, Hermione knew just want he needed from her on his worst days.  She didn’t try to force him out of bed, though soon she was the only thing that could get him up and dressed on his bad days if she set a return post that she was coming to see him.  Often, they’d hole up in his room and do nothing together, leaning into each other while they read different books, though on his worst days Hermione had taken to reaching to him while he lay next to her with his head resting on her knee.  The first time she got him out of the house, he’d been overwhelmed thinking they were going into town, that he’d have to force himself to be around other people, but she led him around the garden instead, listening quietly as he recounted all the memories flooding through him.  When they finally did go out to get lunch together, George wasn’t nervous because he knew she was there for him if he got overwhelmed.

It was more than just how grateful he was to her that made him love her.  He’d always known she was smart, of course, and that she was a fiercely loyal friend, but the subtler nuances of her personality hadn’t been clear to him until they’d started spending alone time together.  He came to love her passion, her kindness, the way she chewed on her inner lip when she was thinking.  When it came down to it, he loved everything about her.

After all, she’d been his saving grace. 


End file.
